Drowning in his Eyes
by norifollort
Summary: After returning to South Park for a new job, Christophe notices strange murders and acts that all circle around one person. Rated T for violence/gore. Slash fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Songs:**

**Aberdeen - Cage the Elephant**

**My Own Worst Enemy - Lit**

**Under Pressure - Queen**

**Destroya - My Chemical Romance**

**Six Six Six - Say Anything**

* * *

><p>It was cold, and I managed to bite down my shivers to try and look intimidating.<p>

Pip was rambling on and on, it was another stupid job, but it was also money.

"So she… just… disappeared?" I ask, my thick accent becoming a mutter as I light the cigarette between my lips. I'm trying to quit. Okay, not really.

"Yes, I just don't know where she could've gone off to- I think she was kidnapped."

It was his girlfriend. Personally for me, I think she ran off somewhere, but according to Pip, that couldn't have happened. They loved each other too much.

"Did she 'ave any enemies? Do you 'ave any enemies? Love interests zat got too jealous, per'aps?" They were simple questions, if she really was kidnapped, or even murdered, you could expect them.

"Maybe… love interest?"

His voice was soft, even sad. As if he knew now who could've did it. "Maybe a friend."

"Pip, eef you... 'ave any suspicions about anyone, you 'ave to tell me now." I could solve the job quicker if the little Brit' would just tell me.

"I just.. I really don't want him to be it, but-"

"Pip-"

"Okay, okay, he lives on 666 Jaybird Dr."

I snorted, a smirk almost making the cigarette fall from my mouth, "Who ees he, Satan?"

"Close enough." His voice was once more soft, and he smiled sadly, "Goodbye, Christophe, please find her."

* * *

><p>I decided to visit the house tomorrow, it was late, and I needed to return to my computer anyway.<p>

I also needed to research Satan because Pip now has me paranoid.

"_Close enough."_

So what, he was a demon? I wouldn't expect less from South Park, it being so strange this far. But it'd still be nice to know what I was going to deal with, or even try to find out who I was going to deal with.

* * *

><p>I made my way down the aisles, checking what I got off the list, and then making it for the line. There was a group of teens behind me, blabbering and spitting nonsense about Satanism, I look back to see what they looked like. Black hair and dark lipstick, hard to tell between male and female. I started to giggle, but left them be to their own choices.<p>

After I paid for my groceries, I stopped to look in the window, my hair was messily combed to the side, and my eyes bore right into people. It was somewhat scary, I guess, to see a disheveled man staring at you randomly with a muddy shovel on his back.

* * *

><p>The door was ajar, so I decided to let myself in.<p>

The house reeked of blood, which was a bad sign for Pip, but I didn't entirely care. I managed to stifle vomit that arose when I actually saw the thing. It was mutilated and maggots were crawling through the flesh freely. The cheeks were peeled up to reveal now fly food, and the eyes were gouged out and actually flung across the room. The jaw was broken and hanging half open, where you could notice the tongue ripped out and left to make friends with the eyes.

I gently took my shovel from the strap on my back and walked past the dried blood on the floor, looking for any demon-like figures inside the house.

I don't know why I'm not running to save my own skin right now. I guess some part of me actually wants to see the psycho who decided to do this.

A shiver ran up my spine as I heard the creaking of stairs behind me.

I was torn in half with the decisions of running or fighting. I still had time to hide, but where? The feet slowed down a little, as if the man knew I was there.

Gulping, I make my way for the back door, fumbling with the lock as I started to bolt out of the house. Next thing I knew, someone had me by the hair and had flung me back.

Pain. It shattered into the back of my skull, my fingers clenching into a fist as I let out a cry.

I staggered to my feet, and watched the man before me, scared, but I didn't dare show it.

I bit my quivering lip and stood up straight, ignored the pounding of my head and raised my shovel, letting out grunts as I slammed into the taller man, and once he fell back, I whipped my shovel into the side of his head, and I noticed that I caved it in before I hopped over him to then slide off the snow on the back porch and trip down the few steps.

* * *

><p>"Pip, eet was 'im."<p>

The other line was quiet for a minute, and I let him think, or cry, or whatever he was doing.

"Was she terribly hurt?"

"...Oui, she's dead."

I noticed the tone I was using, and how it didn't sound as gruff, and actually apologetic for what had happened. Even though I had nothing to do with it, and I couldn't save her. Well.

Maybe if I had gotten there earlier I could have saved the life of a couple- Nevermind, let's not let that get to me.

"Oh."

I don't blame him for not having any words.

"Who ees 'e, Pip? You said 'e was close enough to Satan."

"He's… the Antichrist, Christophe. And he had some sort of interest in me."

Ahahaha. What.

"Ze Antichrist? Zat zing ees Satan's son? I can believe zat, especially wiz what I saw eet do."

I shouldn't have said that.

"How bad was her body, Christophe?"

"Keep your mind off zat, I don't even want you seeing ze body, alright?"

"Fine. Just… I'm calling the police. Goodbye."

I think that was a common phrase in South Park, to where it was used so often it was nonchalant when said by anyone.

"I'm sorry, Pip."

I know he didn't hear me, because he already hung up, and I was staring dumbly at my flip phone. The cops can't do anything. The body was probably already hidden in a wall or something crazy like that.

* * *

><p>Pip was paying extra for this.<p>

My legs wrapped tightly around a tree branch as I unsteadily tried sitting up, "Dammit-"

I grunted as I tried to gain back my balance, holding tightly onto the trunk as I strained to see the cops knocking on Damien's door.

It was the demon's own fault for leaving his door open where I could so easily slip into his house. He should be mad at himself for getting himself caught by a mercenary.

He was smiling, actually, they all were smiling, and laughing. The cops in South Park were useless, and Damien looked so innocent, so different from when I saw him.

He was all mad, and looked like a vampire who was awoken from a thousand year slumber. All chill about the blood that was going to ruin his floors, what an idiot.

Damien waved the cops off, and they gladly left, laughing about a joke he probably told to get the murder off their peanut-sized brains.

Idiotsidiotsidiotsidiots-

Then a death glare knocked me out of the tree.

A _death glare_ somehow _knocked _me out of the tree.

At first I thought he was going to stomp his way over to me, but instead he slammed his door and closed the blinds.

He got away with murder, why was he so pissed?

* * *

><p>Pip wanted me to do all these things for him.<p>

At least I was getting extra.

First I needed to confront Damien, see why he killed her(even though Pip had some sort of idea), and then run out of there before I get murdered myself.

'Cept I added the last part.

Because besides Pip only caring about where the body is, I'm worried about my own health. And how I want my eyes and tongue to stay in the place where they were assigned, and not thrown across the room.

This is going to be a longer job than I expected.

* * *

><p><strong>Ahhh, short-ish chapter I guess? They'll get longer if it's heavily requested, but at the moment I'm just going to try and get the story up and running. <strong>

**-norifollort**


	2. Chapter 2

**Songs:**

**Pavlove – Fall Out Boy**

**20 Dollar Nose Bleed – Fall Out Boy**

**No One Believes Me – Kid Cudi**

* * *

><p>My arms took their time rising above my head, and I groaned as I stretched. I woke up earlier than usual today, my hands rubbing at my dark brown eyes.<p>

I wanted to drop this job, but being friends with Pip, and him offering more money kinda has me stuck.

Yeah, I'm pretty greedy.

I shuffled towards the bathroom and ran my fingers through my hair. I needed a haircut, I didn't like the strands flopping over my ears, or curling by my forehead.

My hair tended to spiral, which is why I preferred military cuts over anything else.

My hand twisted the knob to the shower slowly, I backed away once the shower head started to dribble water down. After a few seconds the water came out stronger, and it sounded like a storm when it hit the shampoo bottles that were scattered on the shower floor.

The water was warm once I got in, and I squirted the shampoo into my hands.

The thought of quitting this job still ran through my head.

* * *

><p>I could pass my shaking off as being cold if I really wanted to.<p>

The thought of meeting the man and just speaking to him didn't pass through my head too well. He saw me in his house a couple of days ago, I don't expect him to be too friendly with me when I first approach this issue. I had gotten requests for more jobs recently, revolving more and more around paranormal-ish activity, and I started to suspect the Goth teens back in the grocery store the other day. I mean, with how much they loved their "god", I don't see why they wouldn't want to please his son as well.

I rang the doorbell, which went off with a generic "ding dong", and stood with a hand gently placed onto the handle of my shovel, comforting myself.

My heart stopped as I saw the door start to creak open, red eyes burning into my own.

My hand stuck out automatically, "Christophe Delorne."

"Mhm. You called the cops on me."

He sounded disappointed, like a mother finding a stash of drugs in her fifteen year old's room.

"No, I didn't. Someone else called ze cops on you."

"Who?"

"Confidential, look, my client wants to know why you killed ze girl."

"Tell Pip that it was for the better good." You could practically hear the smirk in the tall man's voice, Damien stepped out of his house to reveal his pale legs under his boxers; he snorted as his feet curled against the snow. It melted into a small puddle.

"I never said eet was Pip." I growled

"I know."

"Why did you kill 'er?"

"Reasons."

"Care to share zem wiz me?"

"No."

My eyelids fluttered, and Damien chuckled as he noticed the roll of my eyes.

I started to chew on my lips as I thought for a moment, and Damien was looking off, passed my head. His eyes were narrowed, as if someone were watching him. Us.

After I opened my mouth, I noticed his stare flicker back down to me, and a smirk curled his pale lips.

He cut me off before I could speak,

"Do you want to come inside?"

"Eef you give me information first."

"Fine, fine. I didn't kill her over jealously or anything. I know Pip said that I did. There's a much bigger… story to this than just a simple murder. I'll tell you all about it, if you would just _come inside."_

I pushed my way through, past his broad shoulders and into the living room. His furniture was nice, and the TV was on Netflix, _Undercover Boss_ on pause.

I looked back at the tall demon, trying to figure out his height as I compared it to my own.

I suspected that he could control his height and features, he was a demon after all.

"How much has Pip told you about me?"

"Enough."

"Sooo?..."

"Oui, I know who you are."

"Fine."

It was somewhat awkward, we were quiet, and he went into the kitchen to get a soda from the fridge.

"What's ze _bigger story_?"

"Hm?"

"You said zere was a bigger story to you murdering Pip's girlfriend."

"Did I?"

He gave a wry smile, and I stared blankly at him, thinking of situations that could happen that would make _that grin_ just _go away_.

"Eet doesn't even 'ave to be in detail, I just want to know even a _little_ bit of what went zrough your mind before you killed her."

"Ah. Well." He started to chuckle a little, and looked at me with half lidded eyes, "I thought about how ugly I was going to make her."

"You succeeded."

He moved forward to stand directly in front of me, "We're being watched."

"I know."

"Did you bring them?"

"No, I don't even zink I know who zey are."

"Should we address them?"

"Only eef you put on some pants."

* * *

><p>Damien stalked forward, and I made sure to stand behind him. If anyone was going to get hurt first, I'd prefer the man who could heal himself over me.<p>

The man was slightly overweight, and once we actually approached him, he staggered, going one way first, and then the other, then deciding to drop to the ground and cover his head in fear.

_Yes, bow before me._

I giggled, and Damien tossed a glance towards me, his eyebrow arched in confusion.

"Why were you stalking us?" I dropped the smile and stepped passed the Antichrist, "Obtaining information?"

I came off as pissed, because I actually kind of was. My shovel was drawn from the strap and I patted the humiliated man on the back with the muddy end of it.

"No… I… wanted to see if he… appreciated my work."

I glanced past my shoulder, stared at Damien for a minute, and then gave the slob my undivided attention.

_Some fans you got, Damien. _

"Work. Are you behind ze murders zat 'ave been 'appening?" My voice changed a bit,  
>I sounded angry, as if I were a cop or something.<p>

"Ang—"

"Enough."

Both of us tilt our heads upward to stare at Damien, who looked more pissed than Gregory when you wake him up in the mornings.

His fists were clenched, and his eyebrows furrowed. You couldn't see his eyes, couldn't tell if they shifted colors when he was mad, for he had closed them.

His eyelids then peeled open.

_Definitelyshiftedcolorsohdeargod._

* * *

><p>After freakfreak left, Damien waved me off.<p>

He knew I need more information than what he gave me.

Actually, I was pretty damn curious towards the whole situation that just happened.

But before I could open my mouth to speak, the door was slammed.

"Zank you." I said sarcastically.

With a deep breath, and my exhale curling in the cold air, I made my way home.

_His_ number came up on my phone, and I chuckled.

"Yes?"

"Where the hell are you?"

"On a job."

"Christophe, you know I was coming into town, you couldn't just _leave_ your house without telling me."

"Don't be so controlling."

"Hurry up."

"I'll get some drinks first."

After I mentioned drinks, the man hung up on me.

I was deciding on taking the long way to the grocery store (to piss of my friend), or the short way (which would buy me more time with a long awaited reuniting).

I decided seeing him PMSing was much more needed.

* * *

><p>The long route was always pleasurable to view.<p>

It took me an hour, but the pain of my feet from walking on the ragged ground was worth it.

The long way was a path through the forest, and the smell of evergreen was overpowering.

I grinned against the cool air, and closed my eyes. I knew the path by heart now, every tree root, every dip. The crunching of snow was therapeutic, and I left my stresses behind me.

I stopped to look up at the fading light, the sun was finally setting.

But the crunching of snow continued.

My skin bristled, and I whipped around, no one was there, but I saw a track of footsteps that weren't my own.

I cursed under my breath and backed away slowly, then threw a glance over my shoulder.

No one was there either.

I drew my shovel from the strap and hissed, feeling more confident as my fingers laced their way around the comforting wood.

But the person decided to not show their face. They were hiding somewhere, but I didn't exactly want to play hide and seek with a possible murderer.

I turned around, and started off towards the grocery store once more, my steps brisk.

I could feel their eyes watching me.

* * *

><p>"Christophe!"<p>

I gently shut the apartment door behind me, and grinned. I was greeted by blonde hair and a disappointed frown.

Setting the drinks down, I embraced the taller man, "Hello, Gregory."

"No matter how long you stay in America, your accent will always stay that thick." He chuckled, and finally melted into me with a small grin.

* * *

><p>Gregory fell asleep on the couch, claiming that the plane ride had tired him out, and that the booze just added to his sleepiness.<p>

We started talking about living together, and how fun it was to be partners when we were younger.

He moved off to D.C. for one of his jobs, which he was done with now.

I wouldn't mind his company, we were like foreign brothers.

I had the tendency to stay up late, whether it was staring at a computer screen, or cooking food, or getting stuff off Ebay.

I felt eyes on me, which didn't make sense since my blinds were closed, and Gregory was fast asleep.

I threw a glance over my shoulder, and sighed in relief when I saw that my paranoia was just getting a hold of me.

Gregory living with me would probably help diminish the fear of me living alone forever. If he really went through with his promise, it'd be like old times.

I threw a blanket over him and moved to the end of the couch, I sat up, staring at a wall.

Out of the corner of my eyes I saw a man staring at me; I didn't dare move.


End file.
